


Your Ex-Lover is Dead

by JustCrushALot



Series: duets [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Mild History, Mild Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustCrushALot/pseuds/JustCrushALot
Summary: Live through this, and you won't look back.——————————————————“Ya know, that night was really something…” Tobin mutters quietly.Tobin’s voice wakes Christen from her trance. “Yeah. It was hot. You’re pretty hot,” Christen offers, desperately hoping that it sounds like their encounter was nothing more than sex to her. A single moment. A one-night stand.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: duets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826677
Comments: 36
Kudos: 190





	Your Ex-Lover is Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [memoized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoized/gifts).



> Update: This story was part of a series of co-written projects with musingpredilection before she left the fandom. She'd write Tobin's perspective and I'd write Christen's. Every interaction between them was live-written. -JCAL 
> 
> ——— 
> 
> This fic is based on the song Your Ex Lover is Dead by Stars. 
> 
> Listening to the song is not required to read, but we suggest you do listen. It’s a great song and it’ll give you our vibe.
> 
> This is also part two of an experiment in fic writing. We each wrote one perspective: T or C. We "live-wrote" the fic together, each offering one perspective, not knowing what the other was going to do to advance the plot or say in dialogue. We really enjoyed it and hope it feels authentic!
> 
> We now present to you: 2 writers. One google doc. Take II.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> JustCrushAlot ❤️ + musingpredilection 🤙

**_God that was strange to see you again  
_ ** **_Introduced by a friend of a friend  
_ **

* * *

After crawling through traffic for almost an hour, Christen’s uber _finally_ takes the exit ramp off I-80 and turns toward downtown Oakland. She’d hoped to make it across the Bay Bridge much earlier to spend some time helping set up for Kelley’s birthday party, but practice ran late and she forgot her keys at the stadium. So, instead of being an hour early, she’s now 40 minutes late. As the Uber pulls up to the garden bar, Christen smooths her shirt and picks a piece of lint off of her black jeans. 

She draws in a deep breath, climbs out of the car, and makes her way inside the large wrought iron gates, glancing around the patio looking for her friends. The bar has a relaxed and colorful vibe, with decorative murals on the brick walls and picnic tables lining the deck. Christen thinks it’s just the kind of place Kelley would love. Christen finally spots Kelley’s girlfriend at a picnic table near the corner of the patio and wanders over to where everyone is gathered. The group there for Kelley’s birthday is quite a bit bigger than Christen was expecting. She hardly knows anyone, and it takes her a moment to orient herself to the crowd. After what feels like an eternity of introductions to strangers, she finally finds the space to slip off and make her way to the bar. 

She orders four tequila shots and a beer and takes two of the shots quickly before making her way back outside with the remaining drinks. Christen doesn’t really like this part of parties—where she doesn't really know anyone but she’s met so many people. People always remember her; after all, she’s usually the first professional athlete they’ve met. Still, she rarely finds herself remembering any of their names. She surveys the crowd around the bar and tells herself that there are at least a few attractive strangers (if all else fails). The tequila settles into her system and comforts her and she remembers she is there for Kelley. _Tonight will be a good night_ , she tells herself. 

Christen finds Kelley in the crowd and puts her arm around her, pulling her close and cooing, “Happy birthday.” Kelley hugs Christen back and places a kiss on her temple. She teases Christen, “Thank you for coming all the way across the bridge for me, superstar! I feel like I hardly ever see you anymore.” 

“I know, Kell,” Christen replies. “Training has been crazy lately, and I’ve just been so caught up in trying to become a starter on the National Team.” 

Kelley smirks at her and winks saying, “And, doing a lot of that horizontal training, I’m sure.”

Christen sets the drinks down on a nearby picnic table playfully punches Kelley in the arm, “Oh please, Kell, like you wouldn’t be doing the same if you were young and single and in the city!” She pauses for a moment, reaching for the two shot glasses and adding, “plus, it’s great for my stamina.” Kelly laughs boisterously as she takes the glass from Christen who shouts, “let’s get this party started, birthday girl!” 

“You’re plan is to kill me, tonight isn’t it, Pressy?” Kelley jokes as she chokes down the tequila and chases it with a lime.

As they’re setting the shot glasses back onto the picnic table, a girl Christen doesn’t know approaches them and yells, “Kelley! Happy birthday!” Kelley turns and embraces the girl who picks her up and spins her around. Christen feels her heart start to beat a little faster as she looks at the new arrival. She doesn’t even give Kelley the chance to introduce her before she jumps in, “Hi, I’m…”

“The famous Christen Press,” the girl interrupts her. “Kelley is always bragging about how great you are and how she knows you. I was really starting to believe she just made it all up to impress us.” The girl smiles and Christen feels like that smile could light up a room. She feels a flutter in her chest and a surge of adrenaline run through her body as she stares into stunning eyes. She’s imagining what it might be like to have the girl pinned up against the nearby brick wall, begging for her, when the girl interrupts her train of thought, “I’m Alex, Alex Morgan. I work with Kelley.”

“Kelley, you didn’t tell me you had such beautiful co-workers,” Christen jokes holding onto Alex’s hand comfortably, “I thought all engineers were super nerdy looking except you, Kell. I might have to come across the bridge more often.” 

Alex chuckles shyly as her hand lingers in Christen’s. 

Kelley cackles, “Unfortunately, Pressy, this one is tragically straight.”

Christen thinks _that's what they all say_ but says aloud, “Ha! Straight girls are allowed to be beautiful, too, you know? Plus, I’m not trying to hook up with your co-workers, I just wanted to pay her a compliment.”

“Whatever you say, Press,” Kelley laughs. Kelley’s girlfriend’s voice rings out across the small space, “Kell, come here real quick, babe!” 

Kelley tells Christen and Alex she will “be right back,” and just like that, they are alone. 

Christen smiles at Alex, looking her straight in the eyes and says, “You know, you really are gorgeous; I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. You’re easily the most beautiful woman in this bar.” Christen wears a confident smirk as she lets her eyes run up and down Alex’s body. 

Alex shifts a bit under Christen’s gaze, smiling softly and allowing herself to be fully considered. She pushes her shoulders back and says in a low voice, “Thank you, Christen. You’re pretty good looking yourself. But Kelley was right, I’m quite straight.”

Christen raises an eyebrow and challenges, “Are you sure? I could help you test that theory, you know.”

Alex gives a deep laugh and smiles at Christen, “I’m quite sure, but thank you for the generous offer.” Something behind Christen catches Alex’s eye, and she averts her gaze from the soccer player. Keeping her eyes fixed behind Christen she adds, “But I do know someone else who is beautiful and loves soccer and really needs to get laid. She’s been hung up on some mystery stranger, so if you’re looking for casual... ”

Christen chuckles and rolls her eyes. This is definitely the first time she’s had a girl she was hitting on try to call in a sub. In fact, Christen is pretty used to getting what she wants. She’s attractive, she’s a professional athlete, she’s the face of the San Francisco Scramblers, and she’s never been afraid to go for what she wants.

“TOBIN!” Alex shouts. 

Christen turns around just in time to see who Alex is yelling at. 

* * *

Though the chosen bar doesn’t shock Tobin in the slightest, the sheer number of people in attendance does. It seems everyone who’s ever known Kelley was invited. Perhaps it’s a bit extravagant for a 31st birthday. After all, thirty-one isn’t a particularly _important_ year. But everything is always outsized in Kelley’s world, probably why Tobin was initially drawn into being her friend. Who could resist her vibrant personality and goofy spirit?  
  
Tobin chuckles as she glances up to be greeted by a mural of a green flying, pencil-wielding sloth. Each time she frequents this place, she’s drawn to her natural spirit animal depicted boldly on the side of the brick wall. 

A bottle is thrust into her hand and an arm wrapped around her shoulder, “TOBY!” Kelley’s voice rings next to her ear.

Tobin rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “I told you never to call me that.”

“I can do whatever I want Toby, it’s my birthday!” Kelley chuckles. “You’re welcome, by the way, for your favorite beer even though it’s MY birthday.”

“Thanks,” Tobin raises the glass rim and takes a generous sip. A satisfied noise escapes her lips as the dark beer coats her throat. “Hmmmm… so good…” she takes another quick swig. “Ahhhh…”

“Alright, have some fun tonight, no one’s counting on you to entertain, so enjoy yourself. Get a little drunk, let loose.” Kelley eyes her friend seriously and dictates, “That’s what I command you to do. It’s my birthday, so you’d better do as I say.”

Tobin shakes her head and laughs.

“No I’m serious. You’re off duty at this party. It’s all fun for you!” Kelley insists. In fact, before Tobin can respond, Kelley is tugging her arm. “Come on, we’ll get you started off right.”

Tobin resists, only slightly knowing she won’t get out of this, but she has to put up some fight for her own dignity. “Kell… I already have a drink…”

“Not a strong enough one,” Kelley justifies and orders a few pickleback shots. The bartender pulls out a few shot glasses. Each with their own unique critter hugging the side: a flamboyant penguin, a cute little chubby panda, and a languid sloth are amongst the mix. Kelley casts her eyes on the bottle in Tobin’s hand. “That’s a chill and talk drink… these,” she takes the beer and sets it on the bar top and shoves two glasses into Tobin’s hands and gathers a few others to join them. “These will give you the kick you need Toby.”

Tobin sighs, and raises her first shot glass and toasts, “To Kell, the best and most annoying friend. Happy Birthday Dude!” She flings the sloth hugging glass back. As the whiskey trickles down, she chases it with pickle juice. A few people grimace and others smack their lips in satisfaction. 

Kelley’s head spins around to her girlfriend’s voice raising over the crowd’s hum of conversation. “Ah, that’s my call for another round. Bye Ladies and Gents!” Kelley disappears to the table where her girlfriend is situated.

“So what do you do? Is it, Toby?” A guy with an intricate assortment of tattoos down his arm inquires. 

  
“Uhm,” Tobin retrieves her beer from the counter and takes a sip. “No, it’s Tobin actually, and I sort of play and teach piano for a living—a few bar gigs here and there, a few studio sessions for pop musicians in the Bay area, some weddings and parties, and lots of lessons. Nice sleeve.” She nods drawing attention to the ink.

“Oh thank you.” He grins and begins to offer all sorts of background on the pieces that run around his forearm and lead up to the giant flower that envelopes his shoulder. She sighs in relief as a few others gather around to listen and admire the artwork, happy to sink back in the conversation. 

Personally she hates the question, “What do you do?” Most people don’t consider teaching and gigging to be a profession. She simply can’t wrap her mind around why, though. It pays the bills. She gets to sleep in every single morning. She gets to play music she loves and teach others how to do the same, even if they are a lot of twenty-somethings with startup tech company money hoping to prove their talent later in life. She rehearses her repertoire. She can enjoy a meal in the evening, maybe drink a glass of wine, and hard chill before she’s called to perform a local gig for four to six hours. She makes her own schedule and she can take nights like tonight off to spend with her friends. It’s the perfect career where she can spend all day blanketed in music.

As the conversation comes to a lull, Tobin hears her name being shouted by a familiar voice.

* * *

**_Smiled and said, "Yes, I think we've met before"  
_ ** **_In that instant it started to pour  
_ **

* * *

Christen feels like the girl walking toward them is familiar. Very familiar. As the stranger draws nearer and she starts to take her in fully she flashes back to lips and tongues and sheets and sweat. Her eyes lock with the girl and she tries desperately to concoct any excuse to escape before the approaching woman joins them. 

Tobin gulps ever so slightly when those green eyes meet hers. Moments of ecstasy flit across her the front of her mind. Slowly, she wanders past a few people into the space occupied by the familiar woman.

“Tobin, this is…” Alex starts. 

“Christen.” Tobin finishes the sentence

“Oh, you two know each other?” Alex asks, a bit perplexed.

“Yeah,” Christen answers, her voice a bit strained as the color drains from her face, “I think we’ve met before. You live in my building, right?”

“Hmmft, yeah same building.” Tobin rolls her eyes slightly at the reference to their acquaintanceship— _same building isn’t even scratching the surface of knowing each other._ She thinks.

Christen can’t decide whether the gods are punishing her or saving her as the sky suddenly opens up and rain starts to pour down on them. “Shit” she yells, dashing inside. It’s not until she is all the way in wiping water from her shoulders that she realizes that she’s left her phone on the table outside. She panics, starting to push her way through the forming crowd back toward the porch when Tobin arrives in front of her holding her cell phone. 

“Here, I believe this belongs to you,” Tobin passes the slick black iPhone to Christen.

Christen offers Tobin a soft “thank you,” as she takes the phone. She looks at the screen and notices that water seems to be seeping into the corner where her phone is cracked. “UGH” she mutters to herself, frustrated. She immediately powers down the phone and resolves to put it in rice when she gets home. “Shit, how am I going to get home?” she mutters to herself.

Tobin smiles softly at the woman’s frustrations. “Ya know, we do live in the same building… uhm… well, I’m headed back there after the party… y...you’re welcome to share a cab.” Tobin stutters through her offer. She’s internally chastising herself wondering if it’s the overwhelming nerves or the tiny bit of excitement that lit her insides.

Christen agrees before she fully processes the implications of the ride back across the Bay Bridge with Tobin. Worried about the potential of an incredibly awkward ride, she decides to take at least a few more shots of tequila until she feels like she has a solid buzz going. Around that time, Kelley’s girlfriend is dragging her out of the bar; Kelley looking a bit green after over-imbibing. Christen feels warm and relaxed when she finds to Tobin to ask, “The birthday girl headed out. Do you think you want to head out soon, too?” She tells herself she doesn’t let her eyes linger on Tobin’s lips as she awaits a response.

“Yeah, hold on a second,” Tobin clenches her jaw before, refusing to be intoxicated by Christen’s presence. She shuffles back to the bar for one last shot courtesy of the open bar. Throwing back her glass of Buffalo Trace, she swallows it to drown any feelings that may want to creep back up. She shoves her hands into her pockets and slinks back towards Christen. She huffs out, “You ready?”

Tobin is close to Christen, she’s right next to her, in her ear, asking her if she is ready to go. Christen thinks back to the last time Tobin’s voice was in her ear, telling her how amazing she felt as they moved together in Tobin’s bed. She feels like the room has caught fire and looks forward to stepping out into the rain, hoping it will cool her off. She speaks softly, afraid her voice will betray just how unintentionally seductive Tobin’s presence feels. She husks, “yeah, let’s go home.” She doesn’t mean for it to sound desperate, or like she was inviting Tobin over, but it just comes out that way. She pulls back in time to see Tobin’s eyes grow just a bit wider.

Tobin knows she can’t audibly respond without giving away the sheer shock that bolts through her. As she pulls her own phone out to request an Uber ride, she can’t help allow herself to smile a little at Christen’s words, “let’s go home.” _Hm… home sounds nice coming off your lips._ Tobin thinks, before quickly reminding herself of that Christen has no meaning in her life.

* * *

**_Captured a taxi despite all the rain  
_ ** **_We drove in silence across Pont Champlain  
_ ** **_And all of the time you thought I was sad  
_ ** **_I was trying to remember your name  
_ **

* * *

The air between them shifts as soon as they get in the Uber. Whereas when they were in the bar Christen was remembering how Tobin’s teeth and lips felt on her body, the walk through the now-lighter rain to the uber seems to have washed away anything between them. They ride in practical silence with the faint sound of the driver’s playlist floating through the air. Christen reminds herself that she doesn’t want Tobin, and why she doesn’t want to want Tobin. She knows how she felt waking up next to Tobin and she can’t let that happen to herself again. She can’t get attached. Especially not to a neighbor. 

She tells herself that everything that happened between them was totally meaningless. She tells herself she doesn’t even know Tobin’s last name. She wonders what Tobin is thinking right then, she turns her head to study the girl. She lets her eyes trace Tobin’s figure. She lets herself remember how Tobin’s tongue felt against hers, how desperately she felt like she needed to be closer and closer to Tobin. To have no space at all between them. But Tobin is staring out the window toward the city and Christen assumes she isn’t thinking about her at all.

* * *

**_This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin  
_ ** **_Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in  
_ ** **_Now you're outside me  
_ ** **_You see all the beauty  
_ ** **_Repent all your sin  
_ **

* * *

Something about rain, the way the sky darkens, and the somber moods flood into the world. The darkness glittered with city lights over the bay perfects the mood as Tobin runs her fingertips over the faint scar along the back of her shoulder. It’s a small reminder of their perfect night together. A night filled with longing and lust. They had explored every part of one another’s exterior, each and every crevice. Christen had pulled Tobin toward herself so hard when she came that her nails broke Tobin’s skin, leaving this little scar. As her mind filters through her mental highlight reel of the night, she can feel Christen’s eyes on her, almost drilling into her, trying to mine her thoughts. She drums her fingers nervously against her thighs—wondering what melody they are tapping of their own volition.

Christen lets herself stare and remember. Tobin really is one of the most stunning people she’s ever met. And, GOD, the sex was mind blowing. _It’s the alcohol. She’s overwhelmed by too much tequila and not enough food, that’s why she’s staring at Tobin’s fingers tapping against her thigh, remembering just how adept they were._

* * *

**_It's nothing but time and a face that you lose  
_ ** **_I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose  
_ **

* * *

“Ya know, that night was really something…” Tobin mutters quietly.

Tobin’s voice wakes Christen from her trance. “Yeah. It was hot. You’re pretty hot,” Christen offers, desperately hoping that it sounds like their encounter was nothing more than sex to her. A single moment. A one-night stand. “You were really good, you know? I bet with the music and all you do that kind of thing a lot.”

“Umm… No, not really a lot.” Tobin can’t will herself to look at Christen. “Thanks though, I guess.”

“You’re telling me that you spend most of your nights in bars playing music and you don’t have a string of women coming through your place?” Christen laughs.

“Yeah… I mean, that’s my job… I don’t hit on people while I’m working,” Tobin laughs at the thought. “Do you?”

“Do I what? Hit on people while working?” 

“Uh… yeah, that’s what you’re implying I do…” Tobin raises an eyebrow finally making eye contact with Christen in a sort of challenge.

“Ha! I have hooked up with some girls from my teams in the past. And, like, there was this one really hot trainer, and this team masseuse, and the coach from…” she trails off.

“Fans too?”

Christen smirks at her and tries to sound bold, “It’s one of the perks.”

“Yeah of course. String of one night stands. It’s the athlete MO.” Tobin rolls her eyes. “It’s not like our night actually meant anything…” She immediately clamps her jaw shut in disbelief she just let that slip. “Uhm… Yeah, I mean, we both knew it was a one time thing. We’re made for other people anyway.”

Christen feels her heart clench slightly as Tobin finishes her sentence. _Made for other people_. She’s really only ever once felt like she might have been made for someone, and she’d literally dug her nails into the girl trying to connect to her. And, well, she just can’t, she can’t feel that right now. Her heart starts to push blood through her body a bit faster, like she is getting ready to start a workout. She swallows hard trying to drive down the feeling rising in her throat. It’s a mix of rejection and want and jealousy and she just blurts, “How do you know you were made for someone else?”

* * *

**_I'll write you a postcard  
_ ** **_I'll send you the news  
_ ** **_From a house down the road from real love  
_ **

* * *

The quick _bizz buzz biztz_ vibrates against Tobin’s buttcheek. She shimmies around, restrained by the seat belt, to retrieve her phone. A smile grows on her face as she reads the incoming text message, completely oblivious to the words that Christen is speaking.

Christen watches Tobin’s face light up. She tries to push her curiosity down but she just cannot seem to stop herself. She wants to play it cool, she doesn’t want to want Tobin. _What’s a friend thing to say?_ she asks herself. She settles on: “Who’s got you all smiley over there?”

“Hmmm?” Tobin’s brow furrows slightly frustrated as she’s drawn from her bubble tapping out a response. “Oh… OH, it’s this woman I took out last weekend. I told her I’d be over in Oakland most of the night.” Tobin replies nonchalantly.

Christen feels her stomach flip and her chest tighten, “Oh? When you said we were made for other people, did you mean her?” Christen thinks her voice might have cracked.

“Well… I mean…” Tobin chooses her words carefully. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, it was only one date, but we really seemed to click. I think it could be something ya know? She seems open to a relationship.”

Christen feels Tobin’s words sting her a little. She can’t tell if it’s a jab at her or not. “Well, good for you, then,” is all she can muster. _It’s the tequila, I’m not jealous, it’s the damn tequila_.

* * *

**_Live through this, and you won't look back  
_ ** **_Live through this, and you won't look back  
_ ** **_Live through this, and you won't look back  
_ **

* * *

_Is she jealous?_ Tobin wonders if she notices a glint of envy in Christen’s eyes, but she quickly shoves that thought aside. With a quick query, Google Maps reveals the time remaining until they reach their apartment building. “Fifteen minutes away.” Tobin says staring straight ahead and resuming the tap tap of her fingers against her phone.

Christen feels blush creep up her neck. She’s probably just made a total fool of herself. She wants to redeem herself to Tobin, to prove that she doesn’t _just_ fuck around, so she rushes out, “It’s not like I never want a relationship, you know?” Her face goes hot as the words leave her lips. _Why is she trying to defend herself? She just needs to make it through the next 15 minutes and she’ll be fine. She just needs to shut the fuck up and ride in awkward silence, and she can go home and get on Bumble and find a nice stranger who can come over and make her forget all about Tobin._

Breathing in harshly through her nose, Tobin checks the time again. 13 minutes. She exhales sharply through her mouth. Christen’s words echo around in her head. She’s desperately trying to will them out. _It was one night._ She reminds herself as she anticipates the arrival at their building. 9 minutes. _And I will never have to see this woman again. She can go and fuck whoever she desires._ 5 minutes. _It’s not like we ever run into each other anyway. I’m two floors above and with her soccer schedule, we never cross paths._ She lets herself forget how much she’s altered her own routine to avoid Christen. How she only leaves from the back stairwell now, how she only checks her mail late at night now. She lets out a sigh as the car pulls up along the sidewalk.

Christen exhales heavily and gets out of the car. She tries her best to smile as she thanks the driver. As the car pulls away she watches Tobin start to make her way inside. “Hey,” she calls after her, “tell me your venmo and how much I owe so I can pay for my half of the ride.”

“Hey no charge, Christen. I had to come back into the city somehow anyway.” Tobin scoffs slightly and enters the building without a single glance back at the dark-haired soccer player.

Christen feels overwhelmed watching Tobin walk away. She can’t stop herself from calling after her, “Tobin.”

* * *

**_There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave  
_ ** **_You were what I wanted  
_ ** **_I gave what I gave  
_ ** **_I'm not sorry I met you  
_ ** **_I'm not sorry it's over  
_ ** **_I'm not sorry there's nothing to say  
_ ** **_I'm not sorry there's nothing to save  
_ **

* * *

“What?” Tobin swivels around swiftly.

Christen is surprised by Tobin’s abrupt pivot. She doesn’t quite know why she called after the girl in the first place. She stutters out, “I… I…”

“Look Christen, I think we could both agree that night was intense. It was fucking breathtaking. Do I wish something came from it? Maybe I did at the time, but now it feels like lifetimes ago. But I’m not sorry for it. I’m not sorry that our lips touched. I’m not sorry that I felt your body pressed against mine. I don’t regret hearing your breath against the shell of my ear and the sweet utterances that came from your mouth as my fingers sent you over the edge. I’m not even sorry that your bare ass was on my piano when you tried to straddle me after I played you that song. And I don’t let anyone touch my piano. You might regret all of that, but I never will Christen. You couldn’t allow yourself to feel how perfect that night was, could you? I was just another fuck to you. Another girl in a long list of hookups. Didn’t you feel it—what was there between us? It felt like music. Like we had composed this beautiful score together. We were on fire, Christen. Maybe you didn’t feel it, and I’m sorry for that for you, but I will never regret a single moment of that night.”

* * *

**_When there’s nothing left to burn  
_ ** **_You have to set yourself on fire  
_ **

* * *

“Tobin, I…” Christen’s eyes fall to the ground. She feels a lump in her throat. It’s everything. It’s the feeling she had when she woke up in Tobin’s arms. She never let herself fall asleep at anyone’s house, but somehow Tobin was different. Tobin had felt so right. She’d felt so safe. The words “I could fall in love with her” had entered her mind so easily. And Tobin cooked her breakfast and brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her and called her beautiful. But she’d come to her senses. She wasn’t ready to fall for anyone, to be desperate for someone the way she’d already felt desperate for Tobin. It would only lead to heartbreak. That much she was sure of. Her thoughts raced as she stared at Tobin, unable to form words. She finally musters a soft, “Yes.”

 _Yes…_ The word hit Tobin in the chest. Her jaw drops. “Yes you felt it? Or yes you regret it?”  
  
Christen’s voice is soft as she breathes out, “Yes, I felt it.”

“Do you regret it?” Tobin isn’t sure she wants to hear the reply, but she also can’t stand to not know.

“Tobin.” Christen walks toward Tobin, closing the space between them. She starts again, “Tobin, I want to regret it. Or to feel nothing about it. I want to be able to tell you that it wasn’t the most amazing night in my entire life and that I don’t think about it every time I fuck anyone else. But that would be a lie. Because it was perfect. It was perfect, and I felt it, and that scared the hell out of me.” Christen feels her hands shaking so she pushes them inside her pockets. “It still scares the hell out of me.”

Tobin cautiously gauges Christen’s eyes; she sees nothing but raw honesty. She carefully tugs Christen’s hands from where they're hiding. She cradles them in hopes they stop quivering. “Sometimes perfection is scary.”

“I guess it really is.” Christen leans into Tobin’s touch. She takes her right hand out of Tobins’ and traces Tobin’s jaw with her index finger. She runs her thumb along Tobin’s lips, remembering how soft they felt, how good Tobin tasted. “Tobin?” she breathes out, “Can I kiss you now?”

“That would be perfect.” Tobin whispers before closing the distance allowing their lips to brush against each other.

Christen kisses her fervently, and when she does she lets herself feel everything about it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Tumblr user ChristensTobin for feedback. 
> 
> We're at ijustcrushalot and musingpredilection on Tumblr. 
> 
> Thanks for crossing a bridge with us,  
> mp 🤙 (aka Tobin's perspective and voice) + JCAL ❤️ (aka Christen's perspective and voice)
> 
> We believe that [ BlackLivesMatter](https://blacklivesmatter.com)


End file.
